


The Magistrate and the Baihu

by mintyworks



Category: Overwatch (Video Game), World of Warcraft
Genre: Anger, Baihu Genji, Baihu Genji Shimada, Belly Kink, Body Appreciation, Chinese New Year, Chinese folklore, Chubby Jesse McCree, Chubby McCree, Feeding, Food, Food Kink, Love, M/M, Magistrate McCree - Freeform, Mists of Pandaria, Overwatch - Freeform, Pandaren - Freeform, Reaper - Freeform, Sha of Anger - Freeform, Slow Burn, Some Sex, Stuffing, Weight Gain, Weight Issues, World of Warcraft - Freeform, always some plot over here, blizzard, feederism, genji doesnt know that humans arent pandaren, genji shimada - Freeform, hanzo is an ox spirit, hanzo shimada - Freeform, hes grumpy too, how could i forget - Freeform, i forgot to add the chubby mccree tag, it is the way of the mintytac, jesse mccree - Freeform, magistrate - Freeform, overwatch and world of warcraft crossover, overwatchxworldofwarcraft, positive body image, some plot too, why is this human so skinny
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-02 11:06:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15795246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mintyworks/pseuds/mintyworks
Summary: In the lands over Pandaria, Magistrate Jesse McCree feels out of place. But, compelled by a journey of his own into a dangerous land, he is rescued by the White Tiger Spirit, Baihu Genji, who takes him in and restores his health and formidable size (and then some!). But what troubles does his beloved rescue bring? Could the Magistrate be the catalyst for an old and terrible enemy? Can Baihu convince his worldly brother and Ox-spirit, Hanzo, and his Shado-pan army to help? Is the love between a spirit and a mortal worth the threat to their beautiful land?In this Overwatch and World of Warcraft: Mists of Pandaria Crossover, you may enjoy a tale of love, food, and the consequence of powerful emotions. You do not have to be a fan of both games to enjoy this story! While the setting is in Mists of Pandaria, the characters are inspired by Overwatch's Chinese New Year skins and World of Warcraft's lovely China-inspired expansion. I will do my best to explain and expand on both! Enjoy!





	1. The White Tiger

**Author's Note:**

> I did a lot of research before deciding to write this, both on traditional Chinese folk-lore, World of Warcraft's Mist of Pandaria lore, and the stories behind Overwatch's Chinese New Years skins. Though some of it may be embellished by creative freedoms, it is my hope to bring you a tale that celebrates the culture that Blizzard Entertainment has done masterfully well to bring to life. Thank you for reading!

            The Magistrate found himself resting on the autumnal plains of Kun-Lai Summit. He knew where he was going, and perhaps he knew where he was, but he was afraid to admit just how out of place he felt. He had traveled by boat to Pandaria, a rich and cultured continent that courted his own. Except this land was vast, ancient, and incredibly enchanted. Everything around him in his travels had given him visions of vast unseen rivers, carving their way through the lands like veins carrying precious blood through the body. He had felt uplifted and inspired, hearing the music in the trees and seeing joy on the faces of the Pandaren. They were sweet, round, fluffy and incredibly hospitable. Food and beer were plenty shared, and that was something that the Magistrate took full advantage of.

            But here, on the Kun-Lai Summit, he did not feel those rivers or those veins. He did not feel enchanted. He had stopped at a small rickety village before making it this far along the old dirt road, barely legible and trodden. There were no smiles, no niceties, and no booze. They sent him along quickly, not even offering the weary foreigner a place to stay for the night.

            Picking a suitable spot to set up camp was not difficult, at least. The sameness of the land lent little to those who were picky. The hills that rolled along to cradle the insurmountable mountains were gentle, lending no deep pivot or crater to protect him. The boulders that embedded themselves in the land invited slate and gravel to mend around them, making the ground not suitable for sleeping. So, the tired Magistrate lumbered off the road, and after only a short way, he found a moderately spongey patch of earth, and settled to build a fire.

            He began to strip his uniform, peeling of his signature hat first. He traced his dark rough fingertips over the gold embossed seal of his office, the palace, and the land from which he came, remembering the place not as fondly as he hoped he would. Though, he would serve his country land with honor – at least the most he could summon in himself – he had no love for the despot that ruled it, nor his current mission.

            The Magistrate’s hand curled around the red tassel hanging from the hat, only knowing it as red by memory, as the dark night betrayed any notion of the color. The peacock feather, however, sparkled in the moonlight. He was careful as he traced his fingers along the barbs, almost debating whether or not they were too soft to fully comprehend. Nonetheless, he set it down on the chilly ground. Next, he removed his belts unceremoniously, and tossed them aside, putting a hand on his rounded gut as it relaxed forward unrestrained. He had developed one over his course as a Magistrate in his own land, though it was much more entertained here in Pandaria since he had arrived a month ago. Back home, at least, he was respected, or perhaps feared – or perhaps an easy target to sway. Whatever the case, he often found that food, booze, and money made everyone’s lives easier, especially his own, as he scrubbed the land to bring criminals to justice in whatever way he could. He was known for his cleverness and sleuthing, though he was quickly nurturing a reputation as the reasonable man to buy off. Sometimes he took the payout and lied his way back into the offices of his superiors. No one had figured him for corrupt just yet.

_Especially since they sent you on this most important mission! They must truly trust you, the handsome and just Magistrate._

            As the Magistrate removed his jacket, his stomach growled angrily, reminding him of how much walking he had done without dinner. He had meager rations on him and wanted to do his best to save them for the next few days, but his stomach dictated to him in a logical, though belligerent fashion, that this hope would simply not do. So, after cooking the rest of what he had over the scanty fire, he engorged himself on three days’ worth of meat, eggs, and vegetables. Regret was built for tomorrow, not today. 

            Next, he shed his boots and wiggled his toes inside thick cotton wraps, and then rolled up his jacket to use as a pillow. The temperatures were beginning to drop, but the tiny fire and a full belly were doing their jobs to keep him at least somewhat warm. Sleep, despite the cold and the hardened ground, came swiftly to the man of honor and occasional leniency.

            The ambush had taken him completely by surprise.

            The Magistrate yelped as he felt himself ripped from the ground and thrown across the earth, his body slamming into the hard, frosted, slope of a small hill. His body shook, and his vision pulsed. He was confused to the point where it took a few moments to realize that he was in pain. He screamed out, and the strange, tall, scraggly silhouette of his assailants came stomping over. Massive bull horns curved down over the sides of their heads and he heard the labored panting and snorting from multiple beasts.

            The Magistrate tried to scramble away, but with his pain and his bulk, he didn’t get very far before a massive hoof stomped down on his ankle. He heard the crunch of his bones before he felt the pain, and his scream pierced the sharp, cold air. The beast lumbered closer and grabbed the intruder by the neck, massive finger-like paws squeezed the thick flesh. The Magistrate tried to gasp as he was lifted, stars forming in his eyes that rivaled the ones in the sky. Desperate fingers grabbed at matted strands of fur, and he tried his best to put up a fight.

            Then, he heard a terrible roar. A roar that shattered inside his ear and compelled a raspy scream as the beast dropped him to the ground and kicked his slumping form. The Magistrate tried to focus on what he saw.

            It was beautiful. A gorgeous white tiger, glowing as brightly as if it were day. It was larger than a horse, and its movements trailed wonderful tendrils of blue smoke. The tiger roared again, and the three two-legged horned beasts dropped their plunder and hoofed off.

            The pain was too much. The Magistrate felt the world fading around him. He didn’t know if he had suffered a fatal wound, but he was afraid to close his eyes, no matter how heavy his lids were. His world became the image of the white tiger, bounding closer to him. Was it a protector? Was it a predator? There was nothing that the Magistrate could do about either. He felt wet sandpaper scrape across his cheek before a dark world swallowed him.

 

            _I can feel your Anger. All consuming Hatred. Yes. You should not have come here, for you bring the very thing that I need to consume this rotting land. Nothing can stop me. Not even you._

            The Magistrate screamed as he sat up, dazed and confused about where he was. The first thing he noticed was the warmth, and then the second thing he noticed was the pain. He whimpered and fell back, forever grateful that something soft was there to catch him. Breathing hurt. Moving hurt. Thinking hurt. Trying to stare at the intricate carved ceiling hurt. Where was he?

            As he rested and willed his heart to calm, he looked around the room he was in. It was… _massive._ Nothing short of a palace was were he was. The ceilings were fifty feet from him, the bed he rested on was built into the corner of the wall. The blankets and pillows were heavy with goose feather down. He sank back deeper as his eyes darted across the painting and the decorations and the carpets. He was afraid to move, for the fear that he could shatter such a beautiful illusion.

            The Magistrate moved one arm, only to discover that it was bound in a cast. His other was free to run a hand over his bare chest. He found that his ribcage was bound as well. To his distress, the belly he was used to feeling was concave. It startled him enough to spring tears to his eyes, and the shuttering to keep them from falling only made the pain worse. So, he sobbed softly to himself, afraid of how long he had been wherever he was. It was enough to lose thirty some-odd pounds of gut. A few weeks? Longer?

            A hand moved to his overgrown beard and traced through his longer hair. He huffed and closed his eyes, exhausted and defeated. He tried to rest, because the thoughts, fears, and pains were too much to bear at the moment.

            Then he heard small, clicking footsteps. His eyelids fluttered open and he turned his head to see a strange looking man, with armor so incredibly intricate it made him dizzy. The silver metal guarded ornate teal and royal blue garb. It glistened on its own it seemed. The helmet alone was mesmerizing, fangs of a tiger bearing inside an open mouth, and a long plume of white fur sprung from the top and drifted down like a ponytail. The Magistrate wanted to be afraid as the being stepped closer, but the way he moved was so unassuming. Small. Nervous even. He sat beside him on the bed, and he could see the mystery being’s smile beneath the scowl of the metal tiger’s mouth. It was like honey swirled into warm mead.

            “You are awake,” the tiger whispered gently. “I heard a scream. Though, you have been doing that a bit these last few weeks. Are you all right? How do you feel?”

            The tiger being stripped a glove from his slender fingers and placed them on the Magistrate’s forehead. He enjoyed the cool contrast on his skin and he could not help but relax further. This strange armored centurion meant him no harm.

            The plumes of fur on the armored-beings shoulders puffed up on their own.

            “You have a small fever. I should fetch medicine.”

            “Who are you?” the Magistrate rasped out, before his guardian could leave.

            The tiger paused and smiled. “You may call me Baihu, though that is not my real name. What is your name, strange creature?”

            _Strange creature? You seem exactly as I am…._

            “Magistrate, though that is not my real name either,” he managed.

            “There is much power and trust in a name. Perhaps I should hope to earn it one day.”

            The Magistrate noted his awkward accent. Whoever this man was, he was not from a familiar place. He sounded…removed. The tiger shifted to leave.

            “Wait, what happened?” The Magistrate forced himself to ask. His throat was parched. It hurt.

            “You were attacked by a band of yaungol. Do not blame them. They have come to this land on uncertain and difficult times.”

            “What's a yaungol?”

            “Know what a yak is?”

            “Yes, those odd shaggy cow-things. What about them?”

 ****** “Imagine one of those walking around on two feet, only angrier.”

            “I see,” the Magistrate said, knowing from experience that the descriptor was accurate. “I did not do anything to provoke them. I was just sleeping off a meal.”

           “I know,” the tiger said gently, putting a hand on his arm. “Do not harbor any anger toward them as I said. Their fortune lately is lacking.”

            “Well they do not know whom they quarrel with. As soon as I am able, I will hunt them down and bring them to justice—”

             A finger pressed against his lips to shush him.

            “These are not your lands, Magistrate. You do not know what these negative emotions can bring here. So, rest and let me take care of you.”

            The Magistrate, stunned, watched the armored guardian tiger leave the room. He was strange the way he moved. It was as if his feet weren’t making any real contact with the ground, and he was as silent as a whisper on the wind. He felt as though the rest of his energy was carried out with that wind, and his heavy eyelids betrayed him once more.

 

_I know your name, Magistrate Jesse. I will use this against you, and your Anger will feed poison into these lands. Not even the Baihu can stop me now._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** this conversation about the yaungol was taken from two World of Warcraft NPCs, Yoona and Zengi (One Keg in Kun-Lai Summit) - I wanted to include it because it was so funny to me when I was doing my in game research.


	2. The Ox Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A week later and driven by hunger, Magistrate Jesse McCree braves the palace alone in search of food, and boy does he find it! There is just one problem. Baihu Genji has a very ornery and competitive brother.

        Magistrate Jesse McCree shifted in the bed and sighed. His body ached, and all he had been doing for the past two days was staring at the ceiling. It was a nice ceiling, for it was designed with beautiful ancient architecture. The mysterious Baihu came and went, bringing him meals or small stories, but he could never stay long. He seemed the nervous sort, but at least he always brought a lot to eat, and never left while there was food to be eaten.

Jesse’s stomach growled loudly in the quiet room. He had no way to tell the time except for the change of light in his room, but from the open windows he could see it was cloudy and gray, a cool breeze filtering in that made the Magistrate bundle up with an extra fur. Still, it felt around lunch time by the sound of his stomach’s alarm, and he had to do something about it.

The most bravery he had shown in weeks was to sit up and uncover himself, the chill of the room biting him immediately. He inhaled sharply and managed to push himself out of bed, hugging his side with the arm that wasn’t broken. Jesse looked down at his gorgeous robes, lined with fur of an animal he couldn’t identify. It was soft and luxurious, the silken strands woven in a pattern that seemed to tell a story of tigers, oxen, and dragons. He smiled, never having the chance to appreciate the beautiful robes while he was tucked under the covers for so long.

His stomach growled again, reminding him of his drive to stand, and so he set across the cold stone floors toward the large, tall set of carved wooden doors. He noticed a pair of slippers by the door, so he crawled his toes into them and wiggled them to fit, before using a strong arm to pull the heavy door open with a resounding groan. He was greeted by a long hallway, that extended far in both directions, though to his right he noticed that it did have an end. He opted to go left, admiring the paintings and scrolls that decorated the empty, pillar lined hallways.

“Baihu?” Magistrate Jesse called out, his echo sharp and quick to cease. There was no reply, nor did he necessarily expect one. He could get lost in this place, he realized, so he started to memorize his path by the unique paintings or decorations posted with strict periodic order. It was not long before he realized that they too were telling a story. It was difficult to decipher, considering he had no idea what order they were in, but there was the story of the dragon, the tiger, and the ox. The dragon was a gorgeous long serpent, black in scale and white in beard. It looked strong and wise, and elder to the ox and tiger. The tiger was a gorgeous white and silver, and seemed peaceful and majestic, while the ox was stalwart and aggressive, always depicted with its horns at a striking angle, and one foot off the ground like he was ready to charge. Together, the ox and the tiger formed the yin and yang and the dragon was the line between them, the white mane on the dark and the black body on the light. After studying the picture for a moment, Jesse’s stomach growled once more, and he groaned angrily.

“Fine, maybe these pictures can lead me to the kitchen,” he wondered out loud. It wasn’t too long before his nose caught a whiff of smells that made his stomach grumble in excitement. He couldn’t decipher any one. Roasted meat, alcohol, fried eggs, rice, herbs and spices he was sure he wouldn’t know the name of, cooked carrots, the sharpness of broth, fish; so much to smell! He abandoned the paintings and followed his nose down a set of massive carved stairs and through an open set of double doors. His eyes grew to the size of apples as he saw before him the gargantuan banquet, a long twenty-five-foot table _covered_ in freshly made food.

Jesse ignored the pains of his body to rush to the table, his eyes drinking in the sheer amount of food. He hadn’t a clue who all of this was for, but there wasn’t a being or party on the continent, surely not all the way out wherever they were, who would noticed if a few dumplings and a pint of beer were missing. He reasoned this only after he had stuffed his mouth full with a dumpling and a rice ball, and dipped some cured fish into the sauce dish. He guzzled back the alcohol and grabbed some sort of fried sea food cake. He eyed the gorgeous roasted pig at the center of the table, craving the ear, the foot, the tongue, and the cheek. The most tender and satisfying parts of the pig, by far. But whoever this banquet was for, would surely notice if a foot or cheek were carved.

He ate another dumpling, the flavor of meat and veggies exploding in his mouth with a satisfying heat. He slid satisfying strips of bird meat onto his tongue and dipped into a lovely rice dish mixed with leaks and carrots. So many dishes! So many flavors! All cooked with the skill of his emperor’s luxury kitchens. He’d been invited once to dine at a celebration, as an honor to his work, and he had never thought he’d taste food like this again. As he stuffed his cheeks full of samplings, he heard a sharp snort echo through the room. It was deep and growling. The Magistrate dropped the food onto the table and quickly set down the mug of beer. He turned to look at the man – no not quite a man – who made the sound.

“Who are _you?_ ” the creature asked sharply. He was a large man, with a sharp bearded face, long black and silver hair, and with heavy fur robes hanging off of him like the long-haired mats of a cow. And that was not the only thing that resembled such a beast, for he had large black curved horns jutting from his head, and a golden nose ring pierced between the nostrils. “Who gave you permission to intrude on my feast foolish mortal?!”

His voice boomed so loudly that it made Jesse’s ears ring. “I did not know! I am sorry!”

“Who are you? Answer this instant!” the creature demanded again, sharp brows furrowing forward and dark eyes boring holes into the intruder’s head.

“I am the Magistrate of _Huángdì*_ Morrison. I have traveled here on a mission and was attacked. I was rescued and brought here, please I meant no offense. I am just hungry!”

And as if on cue, his stomach growled loudly, even after all he had sampled so far. The horned man’s brow twitched, and he snorted again, before lumbering toward him. Jesse thought for a moment he was starting toward him for a fight, so he puffed up and stood his ground, hardening his gaze. If he backed down now, this thing could gore him, no doubt. But the creature pushed past him to sit at the head of the table.

“Genji has always been weak when it comes to the mortals. And a human at that?” He chuffed. “Despicable.”

Jesse offset his jaw. “So Baihu’s name is Genji? What’s yours?”

“Niú-Hanzo**,” the beast grunted out, filling his plate with everything in sight. “You’re intruding on my meal. Leave.”

“Hanzo, that is no way to speak to a guest,” a voice called softly behind them. Jesse turned to see that Baihu had arrived. He was wearing his armor again, except it looked much lighter and had more furs attached. His helmet had been removed, and he revealed dark eyes and a kind smile. His hair was cut whimsically short and colored snow white. “Magistrate, please forgive my brother. I invited him here to discuss you, but since you have already met, I would like for you to join us.”

“I don’t mean to be a bother,” Jesse said, but his stomach growled so loudly in protest, he blushed. Baihu gave him the warmest smile.

“We would love nothing more than for your company, isn’t that right, Hanzo?”

Hanzo snorted as he stuffed a dumpling into his mouth and gobbled up some noodles to chase it. Jesse was surprised with the ferocity in which the beast ate.

“Well there certainly seems enough for everyone. Is anyone else coming?” Jesse asked moving to sit down at the side, toward the middle. He was still eyeing that roasted pig in the center. He knew it was rude to request the cut of a pig unless offered it.

“No,” Baihu said. “My brother does not visit often, and the only way to motivate him sometimes is with food***.”

“Well I can see why! All this cooking is amazing! You must have a line of the best chefs.”

“More like millennia spent alone with nothing better to do,” Hanzo snorted into a chicken rice dish. He was gnashing and gulping down everything as if it were to disappear in the next few seconds. His breathing was heavy, almost panting as he gulped down beer and slammed his mug on the table. Jesse watched as Baihu stood and refilled it for his brother. He seemed somber after his brother’s remarks.

“Well I can’t believe it,” Jesse said, taking a little bit of everything he could. “Well done, Baihu. Everything here is beyond my class.”

Baihu smiled at him and collected a small plate for himself to snack on, before choosing to sit across from Jesse instead of next to his brother.

“So, might I ask what exactly …are you?” Baihu managed. “I called my brother down here to get more information about how to take care of you, but I suppose I should have been brave enough to ask you myself.”

The Magistrate was a bit taken aback. “Oh, well I’m a human,” he said. “We’re kind of rare up in these parts, but I’m here on a mission.”

“You said that already,” Hanzo leaned back and twirled his chopsticks in exasperation. His cheeks were still full, and Jesse could see that his stomach was starting to bulge with all his eating. He was impressed, but then again, this creature was clearly not limited like he was. “But you won’t say about what. What are you hiding, stranger?”

“It is something personal.”

“Maybe we can help!” Baihu offered.

“I’m not sure you can,” Jesse said. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be on my way soon.”

“Oh,” Baihu said. “Well, it might be some time, you’re so thin and weak, here, did you try a dumpling?”

“I did, I loved them—”

“You should eat more, human.”

Jesse shifted in his seat. “I have to admit I am upset about all the girth I lost. It was frightening to wake up to nothing padding my stomach.” He took the dumpling and plopped it in his mouth, and Genji leaned over the table to watch him eat, like he was expecting something. “It’s good, thank you Baihu.”

Baihu released a wide grin. “Try this next! It is _kǎo yā,_ roasted duck! I learned the recipe from a traveling merchant visiting my temple one year. Oh! It is so good. I had him prepare it for me! I do not think I am as talented, but, please try it and let me know.”

“Well, all right,” Jesse said, taking the duck dish and carefully cutting into it. He was trying his best to ignore the glares he was getting from Niú-Hanzo. He slipped the tender meat between his lips and a burst of rich glazed and roasted flavors assaulted his senses. The more he chewed the better it tasted. He melted and shook his head in disbelief “This is beyond words, Baihu.”

“Oh! Try this! _Mápó dòufu_ , which is tofu and fermented beans. I learned this from an older pandaren, she was so sweet to feed me during my travels.” Baihu leaned over the wide table and scraped the dish onto, Jesse’s plate. “And this! You have to try _Dazhu gansi_ , it is a soup. Here I will get you a bowl!”

Hanzo cleared his throat loudly and deeply, and Baihu paused to look over. The horned man was panting and had a rough snarl tucked on his lips. Baihu frowned and pushed over to Hanzo with the large serving bowl of soup instead, who slurped and gulped it down in less than a minute. He belched loudly and rubbed his growing stomach.

“It was good, wish you could have had some, human,” Hanzo cracked a smile.

The Magistrate narrowed his eyes at the rude creature, before looking to the meek and lonely Baihu-Genji. “What else have you made for me to try?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Emperor  
> ** Literally means “Oxen-Hanzo”. I based Hanzo off of Niuzao, the Ox Spirit.   
> ** This remark was based off the quest “Paying Tribute” an August Celestials faction daily in Townlong Steppes. The quest literally reads “The easiest way to get [Niuzao] moving is to put food in front of him. Luckily for us, food in our temple is plentiful...” – this served as a big inspiration for Niú-Hanzo’s character.


End file.
